


Under The Boardwalk

by tucana



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: M/M, mlm author, mlm only, only read if you are mlm thanks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-13 18:04:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15370266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tucana/pseuds/tucana
Summary: With the final few months before college approaching, Dalton is increasing in desperation to hold a school prom, however the traditionalist values has kept any sort of party banned. Dalton is focused on convincing the others, but they are focused on final examinations and the revision for them.





	Under The Boardwalk

**Author's Note:**

> playlist i listened to whilst writing: https://open.spotify.com/user/4c3id72fa6grnmalsdhhob1zc/playlist/5cO7bz5sMv7tduceeZNzNY?si=gTaGIzfWReyNW6w6MHw2zw

“I think I’d wear a floral suit if we could have one.”  
“That’s very uncharacteristic of you, Dalton.”  
“What? How so?” He shook his head in defeat, “The head would never allow a prom.” Dalton concluded as he closed his textbook, glancing over at Meeks, who was solely focused on studying.  
“You should take a break, Steven”  
“No.”  
Dalton walked over and rested a firm, yet comforting hand on the other boy’s tense shoulder. “Final exams aren’t for two months. We have forev- “  
“No, we don’t. I’m not risking it, okay? Just leave me be.”  
Charlie sighed, clearly giving up hope on changing his friend’s attitude. He patted Steven’s shoulder and moved over to Pitts, who had found himself engrossed in a seemingly endless manual guide for electricians. Charlie tried getting his attention, quickly to no avail, and suddenly realised that everyone in the room, all his closest friends and most distant classmates, were occupied in some form of revision or research, whether it be for exams or generic interests. He let out another, longer sigh, as a final attempt to gain attention from someone, it could be literally anyone, even Cameron and he wouldn’t care – he’d be eternally grateful. To no surprise, there was little response, except for a muffled mutter cursing Dalton for being so clingy.  
The school had never held prom. It just wasn’t a thing. No end of year dance, just a formal assembly and beautifully printed certificates. There wasn’t a sister school to be paired up with, and the teachers underestimated the social lives of many of the boys, and the traditionalist, homophobic ideals fronted the teachers’ decisions, so prom was outright banned.  
Dalton had always dreamed of the perfect prom. Everything was planned, down to what refreshments would be available. He had a small, secret notebook dedicated to the cause, and had written out a plea to change the rules, although he has little belief it would gain traction with many of the students, most were too concerned with getting scholarships and bursaries. At night, with nothing to do, he’d lie down on his bed, and run through the event in his head – the first dance, the photoshoot, the secretly getting drunk, the slow waltz. In his sleep, he’d dream about the ideal date, how he’d ask him out, how his cheeks would go bright red and how he’d ruffle his adorably curled hair, smiling as he’d ecstatically say yes. He knew his peers weren’t too keen, some were open to the idea, but it didn’t really bother them, so Charlie mostly kept his fantasy private, restricted to a small corner in his brain, desperate to be freed.  
Dalton resorted to spending a third consecutive night in his room, alone but not looking forward to the moment Cameron ambles in – poised to annoy Charlie with every movement and breath he took. He scrambled through the drawers and took out the notebook, that was cleverly disguised as a general-purpose diary, glancing in every direction before carefully opening, as to not let any loose pictures drop out. He flicked through the section dedicated to different suits, with a few silk dresses scattered here and there. He smiled softly, feeling the equally soft squares of fabric he had taken from the samples in the textiles shop out of town.  
A sudden urge caused him to stand up and proceed to pace around the box-like dorm, whispering assertively a speech to convince the higher-ups to allow prom ‘just this once’. He gradually increased in volume without realisation, soon reaching a more public volume that could be heard from the common room – if anyone was paying attention. His sensibilities only pushed through when familiar footsteps scuffled toward the room. “Cameron” Charlie muttered in dismay, and quickly hid all evidence of his fantasy back into the depths of the small mahogany drawer.  
“What are you ranting about now, Charlie?” Cameron inquired as he entered the room, looking around out of suspicion.  
“It’s Dalton to you.”  
“What makes you think I give a fuck? Anyways, what’s all this prom gibberish you’re banging on about?”  
At this point, Charlie flushed bright red, resembling a sun-dried tomato as he diverted his chestnut eyes to the floor in sheer humiliation.  
“Well, spit it out!”  
There was a tense moment of silence before Charlie even opened his mouth to utter a single syllable. “I-” Cameron raised an eyebrow, increasing the tense atmosphere, “Listen. Don’t like… tell anyone or anything, but I’ve always wanted a prom. Just, the idea is so nice to me and I was crushed when I heard this fucking traditionalist shithole has it banned. Let me dream okay?”  
It took about a second and a half for Cameron to process this information before bursting into raucous laughter. “You really think they’d let us have a prom?!” He paused to continue laughing, “Of course they wouldn’t, it’d give them heart attacks to see people have a nice time!”  
Anger and unmitigated fury boiled up within Dalton. He was visibly fuming, although that didn’t deter Cameron from his ridicule. Charlie curled up his hands into a tight fist, leaving his arms at either side of his body, but his stance was poised to fight. “Get the fuck out.”  
“Why the fuck should I?! It’s my room just as much as it is yours,” Cameron retorted, willing to continue until he noticed the drawer beside the other boys bed had not been fully closed. Charlie immediately took note of Cameron’s view, darting to the drawer and shielding it.  
“Embarrassed?”  
“Fuck off.”  
“Ooh go on, show us lover-boy!”  
“I said. Fuck. Off.” Charlie replied, almost snarling.  
Richard copied after Charlie in a shrill tone, full of the most annoying mockery, and that brought Charlie to the point of no return. His blood boiling, he swung messily at his roommate’s nose, landing the fist with an incomprehensible shout, only to be returned with the gift of being shoved to the floor - accompanied by an equally incomprehensible shout. The two scrambled for hits and punches, alerting the other students and refusing to hold back even when Meeks and Perry rushed in the room. The two witnesses held Cameron and Dalton back, and only succeeded when Pitts and Knox rushed in seconds later to pin their arms behind their backs.  
“WHAT THE LIVING FUCK WENT ON HERE?!” Perry shut down everyone else’s shouts immediately, demanding a pertinent answer. “CAMERON? DALTON? ANYTHING TO SAY?”


End file.
